


Sapphire, Emerald, Ruby and Amethyst

by TheAcupuncturist



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto) Feels, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto)-centric, Ended up with a 11 thousand word smut, Everybody knows how close Team 7 is, I wrote this to explore their feelings, In which Hinata was invited but hasn't decided yet, Multi, Not sorry though, STUPID TAGS JUST STAY WHERE YOU SHOULD, Their love hurts in a good way, she's okay with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 19:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAcupuncturist/pseuds/TheAcupuncturist
Summary: "...because the Dai-nana-han was connected by a profound suffering. It was driven by hurt, by betrayal, by the rancour of too many years, and recently by the unaccountable and torturing love that they felt, that they rediscovered, by the deleterious perseverance of their promises, by the absolute nudity of their souls when in front of the other."





	Sapphire, Emerald, Ruby and Amethyst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunnary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunnary/gifts).



> I just love the OT3, okay?  
> But from now on, if I write about them, it will be in an established poly relationship.
> 
> THE TAGS ARE FCKING WITH ME! They won't stay where they should.
> 
> I gift this to Lunnary (and the anonymous friend), because this person had the kindness of not only leaving a review in my original work, but writing it in Spanish (which just made me grin a long time). I hope you like this as much as the Spanish version.

* * *

 

 

A tangible tension seemed to follow, subtle as a shadow, one that had them alert, that made the pupils move faster than they should. It grew with every minute that passed.

Their daughter had three hours away from home, and would not be back until tomorrow afternoon.

They had been very careful not to near each other, because if the experience served them, it was for that. The moment their imprudence pushed the contact of their skins, there would not be anything to stop them from ripping off their clothes and melt in a desperate outburst wherever it may occur.

Not that the person absent would mind, but doing so could deprive them the immense satisfaction of enduring until his arrival. There also was the violent emotion of resisting the impulse to yield, to cling to temperance, a thrilling  _containment_  that had their adrenaline on edge.

Naruto didn't have to say anything, instinct was a reliable tool that shinobis, that kunoichis, managed to hone beyond what a normal person could even dream of. The moment the teenager, with dark hair as her father's, with strong emotions like her mother's, arrived and told them about the mission, about the excitement to go out with her own  _Dai-nana-han,_ they knew.

Tonight would be for  _them_.

That a genin assignment coincided with one of the avenger's brief stays resembled a smile of fate.

Thus, showing authentic smiles, after a hug and a poke on the forehead they saw her out.

Kissing with that much hunger was inevitable once the door was closed. When their tongues found each other and her hands got lost between black strands, when his sole hand clenched her flesh in disturbing need, a flash of momentary lucidity had Sakura pushing him against the wall, perhaps too gruffly; she couldn't be blamed, and hurting him took much more. Not that he ever minded the bruises.

They stared for long seconds, gasping, trembling. Chests rising and falling just as if fighting, as if warring.

The minimal smile on Sasuke's masculine features when he approached, the way his rough fingertips caressed his wife's cheek, traveling to her swollen lips to tempt the soft flesh, barely touching the edge of her teeth…

In a split second, the very same hand stopped her hard, gripping where her neck met the shoulder. His thumb subtly pressed against her snowy throat; a discrete warning, a rousing  _restriction._  One they were not afraid to cross when alone, leaving beautiful marks on the frail, white skin that protected their arteries.

Sasuke was the wise one this occasion, moving away from her as if he were suddenly touching a brazier… the chakra that beat beneath her skin felt that hot.

Night overcame the afternoon with painful slowness, sinking the space in a dull gloom. Neither of them was ever bothered by light's absence, even finding peace in the darkness, one they learned to share during their travel together, that had made easier to surmount the limits of physical contact when they found the courage to delineate the scars, to memorize the freckles, to trace the marks of their shinobi lives. To  _confess themselves_ with words, with caresses.

Only small stripes of light filtered above the heavy curtains, permitting the rays of streetlights to dimly illuminate the house.

They were not nearly as intense as the  _ravenous gleam_  of their eyes.

At the same time they noticed; the vast palpitation of chakra was hard to suppress, they spotted it nonetheless, that could only mean their best friend was as impatient as they were, not even finding the energy to hide his tenketsu when closing in to the house.

Ineffable was the effort they had to make not to kiss again at that instant… It did not prevent their hearts from pumping in aggressive rhythm, or their lungs demanding air to oxygenate the epinephrine in their bodies.

As a silent agreement, Sakura headed to the small cellar, Sasuke to the door.

Sapphires blazed, almost  _febrile_ , intently locked to the jet iris, black as raven's feathers. It was an eye that evoked memories, that spoke of pain, of suffering, whispering redemption passages at the same time. It reflected an imperturbable sense of justice, a slow  _gathering_  of the broken pieces of his being.

A tone as dark as the shadows from where he carried out his duty.

The blazing azure of Naruto's irides narrated other stories, perhaps brighter, more  _heroic,_ the kind that rarely turned into nightmares, those you could share in trust outbursts… Stories blood-tainted anyway.

But his blue eyes always,  _always,_  dedicated a flicker of sad comprehension, a small spark of understanding where the desolation of their past years met and faced the same way it did when their blood merged on that Valley. An ephemeral space where they  _knew each other_  perfectly.

None talked, both blaming the constrictive lump in their throats, not daring to admit that if one's breath warmed even just slightly the skin of the other, they wouldn't bother to wait for her.

In an almost impolite gesture, the Uchiha turned around, leaving the Hokage standing by the door threshold, not caring to glance at him when disappearing down the hall.

He didn't find the moral authority to blame him, conceding a shred of gratitude for his cold sensibleness. Of the three, he always proved the most measured, the most controlled… That until their skins where wet with sweat, with saliva.

Naruto swallowed hard and took a deep breath, closing the door in obscene calmness.

Sakura's feminine aroma floated in the air; floral, delicate, carrying a small sterile trace similar to antiseptic. A brume pink as her hair, with a final sting that warned about the hidden threat of her strength, of her volatile temper. Sasuke's presence blended with hers, a scent of embers, of the static of lightning, a fragrance more intangible but sharper once detected, drifting cautiously like him. A perpetual air of stealthy danger, of a deadly promise if one decided to tempt it.

They intertwined in an inciting manner, trying to overcome, to stain, to  _corrupt_  each other the same way they coexisted and fitted in incomprehensible harmony. A combination that proved  _impossible to resist_  to Naruto, one that would make him come back time after time even if doubts ever had him hesitating (doubts he never harbored).

He clenched his jaw to calm down, an audible stretch of fabric was the result of the tension in his back, in his shoulders. He walked, fingers barely grazing the wall to his left, a gesture that collected tranquility to find them two. He was vaguely aware of the depredatory air the motion gifted him with, as if his fingertips left red strokes on the bare wall, contrasting with the cyan of his eyes.

The Nanadaime entered the dark room, bringing along the air of power, of authority, of  _latent energy_  that stirred beneath his muscles.

Uchiha's tall silhouette offered his side, standing by the sofa he thought of sitting on. Sakura's presence came closer, and the severe lilac of the Rinnegan fixed on Naruto between black strands, a latent warning; he hadn't chosen to sit as it was easier to intervene like that. If Naruto lost his composure, if Sakura  _allowed it,_  the proud shinobi wouldn't hesitate to violently push him and take that urgent contact of lips for himself.

Because under Sasuke's apparent indifference, resided an unwholesome necessity of  _physical confirmation._  Words had long time being incapable to penetrate in his mind, barely moving anything inside him. With time, both of his teammates learned that, if it came to transmitting, the best way to do so was through the skin. It didn't matter if it was an affectionate touch, or a hard collision of knuckles.

With catlike steps, the feminine figure neared them, parsimoniously placing the small glasses of liquor on the table. A soft, sweet ethylic vapor reached their noses, eliciting a forced breath from the two men in anticipation of the ritual.

Fervent sapphires followed every motion, observing the way his teammate downed the first drink, a coerced gasp escaped while looking at the tempting movement of her throat when she swallowed. A tiny trace of jealousy settled in his stomach, because he would  _never_  be the one to drink from her lips. Gritting his teeth, he stood still two steps away from them, irides flashing a red hue.

The Uchiha conceded the Hokage just a brief glance before setting his eyes on the emerald colour, mismatched stare scintillating with his desire. His wife placed a hand on his cheek, the tenderness she only had for  _him_ imprinted in her touch _,_ her opposite took the glass to her fine lips.

The fingers that caressed Sasuke's face abandoned him to grasp tightly his shirt lapel, pulling almost cruelly to bring him closer. Liquor entered his thirsty mouth, warmer,  _sweeter_ with Sakura's saliva; a taste that made the pressure in his abdomen unbearable. The sole hand got lost between the pink locks of her nape, clutching as hard as she did, kissing her urgently.

Controlling the impulse to growl, to  _touch himself,_ the Jinchūriki settled for downing his drink once he reached the table. He wiped his mouth using the back of his hand, prudent enough to leave the glass on the fitment before it bursted between his fingers, watching the exchange in frustrating constraint.

Alcohol burned the throats, the esophagus, not comparing to the heat of the blood pumping in the veins, to the flaming sensation that burned their entrails.

Gasping furiously, refusing to abandon the grip, the couple parted. The colour green shone in an unusual way when staring at the black and lilac, almost  _aggressive._ She pushed him, a controlled manner, her pupils indicating the sofa with imperious air to him. Turning to meet blue irides, she commanded the blond too.

Both shinobis moved, obeying the silent mandate, their shoulders too close once they took seat side by side. Following an impulse, their eyes met. Sasuke remained stoic, but his mismatched colours glowed dangerously when Naruto licked his lips; his eyes were fixed on Sasuke's lower lip's prominence.

With a cautious, calculated motion, the Jinchūriki brought his thumb to the drop threatening to fall from the renegade's right corner of the mouth. The coarse texture of his fingertip sent a shiver down the Uchiha's spine, using the gesture to touch the whole length of the lip, smearing the liquor on it. Without abandoning his gaze, the Uzumaki brought the finger back to his own mouth, savouring the remnant, mixture of the couple's saliva and the sweetness of the drink.

Being conscious of the woman's avid scrutiny sent two palpitations on their genitals; she stood in front of them, behind the crystal table, three glasses awaiting.

Adrenaline coiled in their abdomens when the two turned to see her; the way her body leaned to them, as if she was about to lash out, heightened their senses. A splendid warning, one that would make the hematomas worth it if she decided to jump.

To their frustration, she remained in her place, moving slightly more brusque when taking her glass and emptying it. The kunoichi took seat on the sofa, radiating an expectant air when she crossed her leg; the red dress she wore creased on her lap, revealing the white skin of her thigh at the lateral opening. The dim light conferred a seductive softness to the tenuous delimitations of her muscles.

Sakura smiled discretely while observing the two pair of eyes  _devouring_  the image of her bare skin. Leaning, she pushed with indexes and middles the two remaining glasses, quirking an eyebrow as invitation.

Both men took the liquor, not daring to abandon the woman's provocative gaze when they passed the alcohol down their pharynxes. Rinnegan and black iris moved reluctantly from his wife's sight, deciding to look at his friend for a brief minute. The Uzumaki noticed the trace of annoyance in him, because  _he knew_  that this time, the one undressing her would be him and not Sasuke, an unsettling satisfaction kindled for the dominance forced to abdicate to him.

Trying to offer him solace, he removed the black hair from the face, touching as gently as his tensing sinews allowed him, tracing the Uchiha's mandible to reach the boundary of the shirt collar. An intense spark in the amethyst, in the black, was his reward. He opened the first two buttons, limiting himself to just dig his index and middle a few centimeters underneath the fabric, grazing the prominence of the clavicle.

Sasuke's breathing turned impatient with the brush of his fingers, the subtle play of his lips proved almost impossible to neglect for the Jinchūriki, but at this moment his attentions were not for him, not yet.

He receded rudely, the same way the Uchiha did; a disdainful smile stretched the Uzumaki's lips when he stood.

The medic watched everything with clinical attention, her pupils retaining every detail in overwhelming sharpness. Heat within her was excruciating, almost suffocating. It burned as intense as her teammates' eyes, her groin throbbed painfully.

She didn't abandon her husband's gaze when Naruto neared her left side, nor when the now skilled fingers of his left hand traced beneath her bottom lip. Stifling the impulse to attract him and stamp her lips on his was hard, but if anything distinguished the Godaime's apprentice was her  _iron control._  One she  _loved to_   _use_  when it came to Sasuke, or Naruto in this special occasions. Limiting herself to place a hand on his friend's strong quadriceps, she let him do.

The Jinchūriki's index and middle floated on her chin, on the skin of her throat, until they reached the dress closure. His warm exhalations tingled on her left ear, yet emanating the fumes of the drink, blending her friend's characteristic aroma with them; he smelled like a sunny day,  _scorching,_  like firm wood of ebony, as if it represented the solid anchorage he was, one Sakura and Sasuke clung on to for many years, not caring about the grooves they left on him when doing so. An essence that inspired certain calm the same way it suffocated, like the inclemency of the sun before it was hidden by a relentless storm.

Emerald irides were still locked to the amethyst and black. The kunoichi recognized the subtle traces of jealousy, of torturing constraint, of fixed  _arousal_ that danced in them. His posture rigid to keep himself still while observing. Her trained eyes had no difficulty noticing the stiffness in his crotch, the tightness of the dark fabric, she made sure not to hide her lascivious scrutiny to her husband. The man reacted by frowning, a gesture that would resemble a threat to any other person that didn't know him; to her it was the reaffirmation of his desire, of his need to  _touch her._

A big hand wrapped the kunoichi's, covering it almost completely. Naruto's right thumb explored her knuckles, brushing the many scars, the protuberances of her bone callouses; at par his left fingers unfastened the red dress until below her navel, just where the zip deviated to her side.

Sasuke exhaled ferociously, clenching his fist on top of his thigh; it was casually close to his erection. His wife answered him by raising her eyebrows, a  _defiant_  gesture, a small, bold smile lingered on her lips.

Nanadaime's eager lips kissed the skin of her neck, right behind the ear, huffing against the pink hair as he descended, he stopped at the frail dermis above her carotid. His left hand slid beneath the dress opening, barely atop her right breast, pushing the fabric to reveal the white skin of her shoulder.

The Uchiha's sight nailed on the visible space between her bosoms and his wife narrowed her eyes with depredatory air. He knew she was not wearing underwear, a detail that made his wait  _agonic_  the last few hours, but the visual confirmation of it was insufferable; his fingers ached to get lost on her skin. He clenched his jaw, swallowing the acquiescence of being a witness for now.

Sakura's hand closed on Naruto's jacket lapel; Sasuke's heart hammered unconscionable against his ribs in reaction. Emerald irides didn't abandon him as she pulled the Hokage closer, doing so with tempting slowness. She only diverted her gaze from her husband when the leader forced her to, turning her face with a claimant hand on her cheek. Notwithstanding it, and to her wicked pleasure, she discerned that black had turned into bright  _crimson_.

Naruto's lips  _always_  were insistent, almost demanding. His tongue strived in obliging a reaction despite not needing to, entering impetuously, interlacing with categorical excess.

It was an obstinacy Sakura found stimulating the same measure as exasperating. She was used to Sasuke's rapture, but even in his most passionate moments there always was a strain of wariness that proved impossible for the renegade to abandon. Her best friend didn't refrain by any chance, that matter was left for her to decide.

Right now it made her blood boil, so she allowed him to claim her so much attention, reciprocating his hunger with her tongue, grasping the blond hair harshly, her opposite hand unfastening his jacket. He moaned against her lips, closing his fingers around Sakura's hard enough to bruise; she responded by clutching his thigh, painting faint momentary marks on the epidermis. The smoothness of their tongues contrasted with the cruelty of their movement, instigating sensations, ripping attractive sounds from the other as they danced.

The woman felt it (because her eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids), the change of air to her flank, the way her body reacted to the  _threat_  of her husband's proximity, brisling the skin in response. Her best friend also noticed, pushing a bit more, as if he was trying to lengthen the chance he had at this moment, his teeth quite more aggressive when biting her red lips.

The medic gasped against the Jinchūriki's mouth, her left hand covering the tanned skin of his cheek; her thumb pressed hard on his chin, pushing him away a few centimeters. She looked at him long seconds, their chests heaving to the rhythm of their agitated breathing. The sapphire and the emerald  _blazed_  with their craving, the kunoichi offered him a brief smile before turning away.

Something in the forbidding image of the Sharingan, of the Rinnegan, made her body tremble to the core, a sting in her sex that Naruto could  _never_  provoke her with the inevitable kindness of his gaze. The intimidating patterns of tomoe danced when the man narrowed his eyes, making the woman's heart beat harder.

The Uchiha gave her a minuscule smile impregnated of his perpetual trace of arrogance before attracting her, his sole hand buried in the hair of her nape. She responded by gripping firmly his shirt lapel; a well-trained part of her mind warned her to contain the disproportionate strength of her muscles.

The familiarity of his lips did little to appease the growing need of accelerating things, of feeling them inside of her. He found no relief either, his tongue twisted invasively over hers when he savoured her saliva. The man jerked her hair, an absent gesture, causing an electric tingling that exacerbated the one he was provoking her with his passionate kiss. The Uchiha woman gifted him a choked moan that almost turned into a growl, a sound that made the renegade lose control every time.

Sasuke would never grow tired of the  _intoxicating_ effect Sakura had on him.

The Jinchūriki came closer to his teammate's side, his fingers pulling the dress' material to open it further, kissing the delicate neck again. There was something extremely erotic in feeling the play of her tendons when kissing his best friend under his lips. He muffled an "mmm" against her when the medic caressed his nape, digging enough her nails to bristle his skin. Naruto's left hand got lost beneath the fabric, closing gently on the woman's right oblique, he began a slow ascent from there, the coarseness of his palm touching the softness of her dermis. He delightedly heard the drowned sound that vibrated in her throat when the knuckle of his thumb reached the beginning of her breast.

With a subtle pressure, the Uchiha indicated his wife, and she in turn to their friend; they rose to their feet, remaining still, agitated, for a moment.

In a dexterous movement, the kunoichi busted the buttons of Sasuke's shirt, opening it to reveal the exquisite lines of his abdomen, of his pectorals. A thin layer of sweat shone in his sternum, like a sinful invitation to  _taste it_ ; the woman swallowed, forcing herself to hold back from doing so. She neared him, taking the Nanadaime's hand to drag him closer too.

The breathing of the three accelerated when Sakura placed Naruto's hand on top of Sasuke's chest, moving then to the Jinchūriki's back.

Both men stared at each other long seconds, not being able to turn away when the medic's hands removed the jacket. An attenuated, frustrated sound escaped the black-haired man when the hand abandoned his sternum to allow the garment to fall.

Ruby and amethyst fixed of the prosthesis, a strange flicker as they ran on its shape; the image left a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth. It was the price of their union, the constant  _reminder_  of the past, of the blood that had to be spilled to be there;  _ **the same blood that bounded him to Naruto, to Sakura.**_

It was a bond patched up with scars, with stitches, torn. But every thread stained with blood had acquired an unbreakable property, the salt of the tears that were shed strengthened them with each other, making the three as inseparable as dependent to the other.

Their attachment was unexplainable, impossible for the rest to truly understand. One they learned to tolerate, because the  _Dai-nana-han_ was connected by a profound suffering. It was driven by hurt, by betrayal, by the rancour of too many years, and recently by the unaccountable and torturing love that they felt, that they  _rediscovered_ , by the  _deleterious_  perseverance of their promises, by the absolute nudity of  _their souls_  when in front of the other.

Everybody agreed at some point, thinking the three deserved their happiness, even if that represented the discomfort of some, even if that meant allowing their strange dependency.

The Hokage drifted his fingers through the black hair, moving from the hairline on his forehead until it stopped on the back of his head, closing to clutch his hair in his hand. The pressure was almost too sharp, in the exact limit between arousing him and hurting. The cyan colour flickered with his intention, pulling him to kiss him.

The Uchiha gasped against the Uzumaki's lips, the brief parting of his lips allowing access to the insistent tongue. He frowned, feeling a hint of impatience brewing at the urgency of his friend; Sakura could be just as zealous, just as aggressive, but her touch possessed a smooth feature, a  _clinical precision,_ she knew exactly when to push him and when to loosen, balancing him perfectly in the edge between frustration and eagerness. His friend was all rampage, suffocating, but that dose of chaos was what made their encounters so special.

The Uzumaki gave them that  _excess,_ and the Uchihas returned him the forced  _restraint_  he needed.

The medic moved then to her husband's back, removing his shirt as her lips kissed the trapezius, nibbling over the shoulder blades, her breasts pressed against him. Her hands traveled, floating above the serratus, on the creases of the man's defined obliques, reaching the waist of his trousers. She dug her fingers, feeling the roughness of the trimmed pubic hair, stopping temptingly just above his shaft.

Sakura inhaled deeply, the aroma Sasuke emanated was intoxicating for her; an elegant tingling, sweet-scented, with a final bite that highlighted the dark chakra flowing in his body.

The Uchiha was an entity of darkness, one that seethed with black fire inside… And she, she let herself be  _consumed by him_  the same way he let Sakura consume him with the way she had to  _tear_  feelings off him even when he still remained so reluctant to share them, the cool throbbing of her chakra colliding with own scorching nature.

Sasuke's lone hand took Naruto's hard oblique, pulling until their bodies met, the sweat of their skins blended the same way their saliva did in their mouths. When their erections rubbed together the Uzumaki bit his lip, perhaps too harshly because the growl that emanated from the dark-haired man was more warning than approval. The sound made the medic react as well; the spasm of her fingers against the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen caused the Uchiha a contraction in his hardness.

They separated, lips swollen from the abuse, panting violently centimeters away. The mismatched pair found the blue, a satisfied smile stretched the Uzumaki's lips. In a bold gesture, Sasuke leaned in a feint to kiss him again, halting at the moment the Jinchūriki parted his lips to receive him; his tongue traced the lower lip's length, painfully  _slow._ He distanced again, a minuscule, haughty smile adorned his lips.

The sole hand abandoned the Hokage to close around the kunoichi's right wrist, pulling gently to place her body between the two men; Naruto allowed the maneuver taking half a step back, the cyan of his irides scintillating at the prospect of touching her as well.

Sasuke did not resent the warmness of her skin leaving his back, because in that moment he could only think of kissing her again, in stripping off that (now annoying) dress that he liked so much.

Ruby and amethyst found the emerald, losing themselves in the other a few seconds,  _enraptured._  In that brief gaze, under the coarseness of desire was the lightning of their affection. Because the feelings they had were  _violent,_ devouring,  _never_  soft. The tenderness was only represented by their hands, by their touch. The excitement, the thrill that  _whipped_  inside was intense, impossible to soothe.

Their love  _burned_ like the Amaterasu,  _throbbed_ like the Byakugō no In.

For Naruto, being bystander of such intimate display produced him resigned contentment. He had fought so hard to achieve it, to bring him back for her, and now that he could witness the results so closely, he found himself  _insatiable._ Because the looks they offered him were full of closeness, of attachment, of  _gratitude,_ but they never flared with that intensity bordering  _cruelty_  that blazed when the couple stared at each other. He felt masochistic, because he also wanted to feel the  _searing, aching_ passion they had for the other.

He could only had a taste in this occasions, and he made sure to seal it well in his mind to keep so kindled, so unbearable, the fire that burned inside his chest when he was with them,  _ **when the three of them were together.**_

The couple joined their lips, starting slowly first, Sakura's touch the more delicate on Sasuke's reddened flesh. The medic took her hand to the black hair, seizing the soft strands amidst her fingers, meanwhile her left hand traveled to her best friend, who was already kissing the union of her neck and shoulder, his hot hands finishing unfastening the dress' zipper.

Heat was suffocating trapped between the bodies of the two men, prompting the sweat to bead the skin of the three. Naruto's erection pressed against her glutes, Sasuke's against her flat abdomen. She stifled the urge to smile arrogantly; having that effect, getting that reaction from them, always caused her immense  _pleasure,_ one she would not doubt to admit if that granted her more time to  _provoke them._

The spouses found their rhythm, kissing in that unique way, encroaching and retreating in a precise timing, tempting the limit between being too passive, between being too voracious. The subtle taste of the Jinchūriki still remained in Sasuke's tongue, and to his delight, Sakura took pains to substitute it with her own.

Splitting a few moments, they panted forcibly to catch their breath, one Naruto stole from the kunoichi when he brushed his fingers smoothly on her thighs, trailing over the hypersensitive skin on the sides of her pubis, right where the legs attached, until he reached her toned abdomen. She arched her back in response, maintaining the emerald fixed to the crimson and lilac of the Uchiha's while her hand lowered to his pants button, opening the garment with expertise. At par, the Uzumaki nibbled the flesh of the woman's earlobe, his hands yet ascending to reach her breasts.

When the coarse contact of his hands covered her bosoms a moan grew in her snowy throat, and he was rewarded with the rubbing of her glutes against his erection. The medic's left hand clung to the Hokage's neck, the right one got buried beneath the renegade's trousers, clutching the hardness of his member.

A compelled exhalation escaped Sasuke the moment his wife rubbed the apex with her thumb, spreading his pre-ejaculation to soften the contact. His eyelids narrowed at the sensation, frowning as he stared at her. Ruby and amethyst traveled then to the hands that were stimulating her, wicked amusement flickering as he watched the way her chest heaved from deep inhalations, as if she expected the oxygen could help alleviate her lust.

He kissed her again, his lone hand floating enticingly over the skin of her thigh. To his pleasure, she groaned imperiously against his lips, a petition he was contented to satisfy; his fingers reached the intense heat of her crotch, decorated beautifully by the short, pink pubic hair. Sasuke's tongue became more demanding when his index and middle touched her folds, covering them in a pleasant, slippery warmness.

"Sasuke," she whispered to his mouth, a sound almost broken by her arousal.

Never could he describe with words the fascination he felt as he heard his name leave her lips, stripped from the honorific; in that intimacy there was no place for such trivial, foreign formalities.

Touching the small rondure of nerves, he earned a sharp quiver from the Uchiha woman. He was close enough to feel the brush of the Nanadaime's knuckles against his pectorals; it proved rousing to feel how his best friend stimulated his wife.

Naruto captured the rosaceous nipples between his fingers, pinching hard enough; he knew her well enough to understand that she enjoyed certain  _brusqueness_ , certain  _rudeness_ , her violent gasps, the ruthless closing of her fingers had taught him with time.

He smiled against her neck, thinking that Sakura portrayed a unique balance between gentleness and aggressiveness, between kindness and ferocity.

The overwhelming sensation amidst her legs made it difficult to concentrate, but experience was useful for that matter; in a careful motion, she released Sasuke's erection from his trousers, stimulating him the same rhythm he did. The swollen tip pressed against her lower abdomen, hot as blood pumped in his arteries. Her hand was firmly clenched, adjusting the pressure to the one that managed to gift her with soft thrusts in return.

Sasuke huffed into her lips, pulling away to swallow saliva. His fingers moved gracefully, drawing circular motions over Sakura's sensitive organ. He became more insistent, causing the medic to drown a mellow moan against him. She threw her head back when her spine arched to the stimuli, letting it rest on the Hokage's trapezius. Her exposed neck was an invitation impossible to deny.

The Uchiha inclined, licking the delicate skin above her carotid to taste de salinity permeating on her neck, nibbling softly at its union to the shoulder, teeth nipping the clavicle as well. At the same time, Naruto bowed his head so he could kiss her, his right hand opening his own pants, left one still occupied on the pink protuberance of her bosom.

For the Hokage, to feel the shivers of pleasure that his best friend tore from Sakura against his own body produced him a morbid delectation, and the moment his rigidness jumped out of its restriction he exhaled into the feminine lips in relief.

Sasuke slid his fingers, tempting the seductive heat of her entrance, he noticed the vibration of his wife's whine on his mouth, a sound that encouraged him to keep going, that ached in his throbbing erection. They entered warily, allowing her to adapt to the feeling. The way she tightened around his fingers made him bite sharply, he knew the mark would embellish her neck if she didn't use chakra to remove it. And he also knew that, for their secret amusement, she  _would not bother_  to do so as long as his stay in Konoha lasted.

Naruto growled his approval when the kunoichi drowned a moan into his lips, alleviating his stiff erection with forcibly slow movements of his hand. His teammate's grip on his neck became almost unforgiving, producing a hint of pain that, as it travelled down his spine, became pleasure.

The medic had to collect all of her self-control to pull away from Naruto, to push Sasuke away a little bit. She panted strenuously, steeling herself; the two men stared expectantly,  _threatening,_ the desire of their eyes flickered in their beautiful colours. She took each one's hand, taking lionhearted steps to take them to the bedroom.

The sapphires, the ruby and amethyst, nailed to the kunoichi's back. Both men delineated the shapes of her stretched arms, the narrowness of her waist, the play of her buttocks as she strode. They stopped at the dress' sewn symbol, right in the middle of her shoulder blades. For Sasuke, seeing it filled him with flaming pride, with  _gratitude,_ a violent feeling that pounded in his heart, a reaction  _only_  his wife could generate in him. In Naruto it was warmness,  _affection,_  a tremendous pridefulness for them and for himself as he made it possible, a decision he could never regret even if he tried with all his might.

Because here they were,  _united_ as never, sharing the  _irrepressible_ feelings they had, ones that  _burned_  inside their chests, that made them  _return_  to the arms of the other.

For both men it always proved somehow nostalgic; when she led them, the ones watching her back were now them, and the fact always softened their eyes in acknowledgment.

They entered the bedroom, answering at the familiarity of the surroundings with a shiver in their spines, with a clenching on the hands they held. They halted two steps away from the bed, their hearts pounding fiercely as adrenaline rushed.

Slowly, gingerly, the medic turned to look at them, releasing her grasp. She glanced at the Uchiha first, then at the Uzumaki. She placed her right palm on Sasuke's cheek, the left one on Naruto's, her thumbs tenderly caressing the skins. It was a kind gesture, contrasting to the ferocity that had led them until now.

But the smoothness of her hands was soon overshadowed by the dangerous  _edge_ on her emerald irides. The two of them swallowed in reaction. Sakura lowered her hand from the Nanadaime's cheek, reaching his left trapezius; she squeezed lightly, a subtle indication to stay there, on hold. The Jinchūriki made a frustrated sound, yet the three knew he wouldn't move.

The Uchiha enjoyed the erotic sight of his wife, the unfastened dress revealed sections of her white skin, granting at the same time that partial cover that he sometimes reckoned more provocative. He gasped when her warm fingers touched his pectorals, delicate lips kissing the skin of his neck, barely above the clavicle. Her fingertips descended slowly, tortuous, middle fingers firmly grazing Sasuke's nipples. He growled in response, raising his hand to caress her.

An iron grip closed on his wrist, impeding him from doing it, the compelled restraint arousing him. The woman redirected his hand, and Sasuke threw his head back when she bit him the same time she deposited his rough hand on his own erection, a hoarse sound vibrating in his throat, vibrating on Sakura's lips. He loved it in the same measure he found it annoying when she did that; limit him, forbidding him from doing something to then  _reward_  him that way, taking away his control, his breath.

The Hokage clenched his jaw, the rigidness of his erection twitching with every visual stimulus, with the combined aroma of the Uchihas. He exhaled audibly, half-frustration, half-arousal. His fingers brushed his tanned skin, nearing his cock but refraining from touching it, the difficult moderation of his instincts sending terrible shivers down his spine. It was more thrilling this way, with the promise of a release that would shatter him to a thousand pieces.

Sakura stepped closer to the Uchiha to kiss him, feeling the brush of his knuckles on top of her abdomen as he stroked himself, she smiled pleased against his lips: he reacted by biting her lip, closing his teeth harshly enough to make her think she'd taste her own blood. The taste of iron was one the shinobis enjoyed, much rooted to the thrill of fight, one alarmingly akin to that of sex, the metallic aftertaste exacerbated the instinct seething inside.

The medic took Sasuke's left glute with one hand, grasping tightly to draw him closer, her left hand traveling on his back, trailing the scars she knew by heart, the attractive dips of his muscles. The oscillation of their kiss made her nipples rub over the skin of his chiseled pectorals, sending electric jolts through all her spine.

Sasuke toughened his grip as he felt the tender caress on his back, the ruthless hold on his left buttock. The friction of the hardened nipples, of the soft breasts, over the skin of his chest was driving him mad, ripping hoarse sounds off his mouth, ones his wife avidly devoured, catching them in her tongue, savouring them on his lips.

The renegade noticed that her right hand abandoned his glute, causing him a shadow of concern, of anticipation. He perceived that the Nanadaime was approaching with Sakura's invitation, and the moment her tender hand moved from his back to cup his cheek, he was certain.

In this occasion,  _she chose him_  to kneel.

This particular situation never ceased to provoke him that contradictory sentiment in his abdomen, in his sternum. Because although in his mind he was sure that he wasn't so fond of it, his body took great pains to  _contradict him_ , be it with the tightness in his testicles, in his cock, or the violent beat of his heart and the sudden lack of air.

His wife then moved her hand a bit, anchoring her fingers on his nape, just beneath his ear, her thumb firmly put on his mandible, the right hand imitating the gesture, cradling him in her relentless grip. The pressure of her indication was as soft as it was unsparing, a constant strain that made him descend until his knees were flat against the fresh wooden floor. In every single one of the times, Sasuke always took the chance to kiss her clavicle, her bosoms, perhaps biting her if he was willing to do so (it was hard not to be).

She didn't let him go, replacing the hardness of the restriction with the smoothness of her caress, thumbs brushing the Uchiha's cheekbones. The Sharingan, the Rinnegan, traveled slowly through the body in front of him, halting on the pink pubic hair, on the sparkling wetness that adorned the inner side of the thighs, ascending through the creases of her toned abdomen, through the soft mounds. Then he found the emerald irides, the bright colour scintillated when staring back at him, transmitting the same  _desire,_ the same  _affection_  he felt.

Suddenly he stopped minding to be in that position, Sakura always managed to counteract the annoyance of submission with the promise of her eyes, of her twisted smile.

If he were truly honest, he wasn't as bothered as he tried to convince himself.

No,  _he really liked it._

Avid eyes observed the way Naruto's hands hooked to the dress' fabric, tugging until the garment slid off her shoulders, opening it completely to reveal their teammate's body. The Sharingan made sure to brand it with hot iron in his mind. He licked his lips when the dress fell, a dull thud resounding. He took a deep breath; the seductive scent of arousal reached his receptors, the medic's fragrance had him clenching his jaw, making a great effort not to bury his face between the toned legs at that instant.

Naruto saw his friend's conflict from his height; he shook softly his head, cyan irides expressing his amusement. Then he averted his gaze to Sakura's skin, his pupils traveling through her back, following the crease of her spine, the scars that decorated her dermis, the shadows of her sinewy anatomy. He neared her gingerly (approaching a kunoichi from a blind spot was too bold even for him), pressing his lips on her left shoulder, his left fingers floating over Sakura's left side, delineating the form of her waist to close firmly on her hip. He advanced more centimeters, his hard erection pushing against the skin of her right buttock, his hot tip brushing the sensitive dermis aside her lumbar vertebrae.

The Uchiha woman sighed, a trembling escalated her spine when she felt the Nanadaime's desire on her, when she felt her husband's hot breath grazing the area that throbbed acclaiming attention. She clenched her teeth, locking the emerald colour to the ruby, to the amethyst; the irides disparity of the man she loved was so beautiful, she thought. His black hair was starting to clump with sweat, disheveled from the yanks, gracing him with a wilder, messier air. Despite kneeling, Sasuke maintained the elegant demeanor that accompanied him, the defying air of his presence impossible to resist.

If anything distinguished the  _Dai-nana-han_ , it was to run straight into danger.

Sakura closed her fingers on the dark hair, and Naruto's bandaged hand covered hers, interlacing their fingers to grasp him as well. She took two steps, Sasuke leaned back in perfect synchrony, his hand clutching her left hip (beneath the Uzumaki's) to hold himself in that position. Naruto following her closely so as to not abandon the warmth of her skin.

Nothing would stop her from seeing the exact moment Sasuke's tongue appeared between his fine lips, shining temptingly just before disappearing in her sex. His mismatched eyes seemed to smile mischievously.

An exclamation escaped without her consent at the contact, her hand clenching his soft hair harder; Naruto kept his grip the same in consideration of the Uchiha despite finding himself  _tempted_  to follow Sakura's instruction. The medic stretched her neck, incapable of containing her body's reaction, the overwhelming sensation radiated from her sensitive organ, stealing the strength from her legs, the oxygen from her lungs. Her left hand was placed over Naruto's, over Sasuke's, trying to find something to anchor her to reality, but her husband's tongue endeavored to thieve her lucidity.

The contact between the three was electrifying, indescribably erotic. Naruto felt Sakura's shivers, Sasuke's movement while devouring her against his hand, the soft swaying of her hips against his hardness. Sasuke perceived that very same oscillation on his chin, his scalp tingled at the insistent grasp of their hands, his wife gifting him pleasured quivers he received on his mouth. Sakura swore the heat would suffocate her; Naruto's friction on her glute, smearing the slick proof of his lust; the craving, the  _hunger,_ of her husband, his hard breaths as he pushed her to the edge.

There was something special in knowing that, if her legs were to give way when her orgasm took place, the two men would undoubtedly hold her. It seemed a perfect representation of the trust she had in them, and the very thought made her tempt her ecstasy. She clutched Sasuke's hair just a bit harder, aware of being in the limit to start hurting him; he growled in accession, in  _approval,_ vibrating against her saturated clitoris.

Their eyes met, and she could not more.

Violent gasps escaped Sakura's parted lips, threatening to become a profane scream. Naruto's left hand covered her mouth to suffocate it, enclosing her waist with his right arm, a raucous sound of approval emerged as he watched the woman  _coming undone_ in pleasure.

The Uchiha had no clemency, his tongue ripping a few more seconds off her orgasm, hand holding tight to impede her from getting away. Even if he were to repeat it a thousand times, we would not find it in himself to grow tired of her taste, of her smell, of the  _love_ Sakura made sure to transmit him through skin, through her eyes.

And he, he would make sure to  _return it_  all the times it was required to make up for his stubbornness, for his negligence towards her.

A film of sweat covered their bodies, prompting their aromas to get stronger, exacerbated by the hormones in their blood, by the adrenaline in their veins.

Her chest heaved in ragged breaths, a radiant smile on her lips when she focused her sight on the renegade again, then she turned her head to her best friend, beaming at him as well. Naruto felt all his bone marrow tingling at the image, returning a delighted grin to her; he leaned to kiss her, an osculation less enraptured but not less intense.

Sasuke observed,  _felt_  the sheer bliss radiating from them, and he allowed a tiny smile stretch his lips.

They parted, staring at each other two seconds before the medic circled Sasuke, placing herself partially to his back, almost at his right flank. Before kneeling, the emerald fixed on the sapphire; green irides traveled to the Uzumaki's prominent erection, she gestured with her chin. The Hokage understood, digging his thumbs on the waistband to remove it nimbly.

Sasuke absorbed the details of Naruto's body, his sculptured muscles stretched his skin in a sinful way, the play of his quadriceps and abs as he stripped made him swallow thick, his friend's strong semblance resulted extremely attractive. Mismatched eyes got fixed to the notorious proof of Naruto's arousal, Sasuke clenched his teeth, marking small muscles on his jaw, his own cock twitched. He then decided to turn to Sakura, noting she was also devouring the Nanadaime's image, biting her lip absently.

He observed her kneeling to his side, the bright green of her eyes expressing her intention; Sasuke shifted to kiss her, but just before they touched she stopped him, thumb pressed against his chin. Curiosity shone in the mismatched colours, turning into crude lust when Sakura's calloused fingertip cleaned the remnant of her own orgasm from under his lower lip. Uchiha's heart hammered furious; seeing her finger disappear amidst her lips,  _tasting herself_ , was a sight he would recall on several lonely nights. He didn't have to turn to know Naruto was observing everything in hypnotic attention.

Not giving time of reaction, she kissed him violently.

The renegade perceived the shift of air when Naruto approached them, so close he felt his body heat on his skin. His wife distanced, she smiled naughtily, placing kisses on his nape and trapezius, her hand finding its way to his cock; Sasuke gasped as she slowly stroked his rigid member. He looked up, meeting the sapphire gleam.

Leaning, the Nanadaime joined his lips with Sasuke's, his strong hands cradling his face. His tongue demanding over the dark-haired man's, imposing an accelerated rhythm, the one he knew would exasperate him. He pulled away just in time (he had learned to identify that limit already), not letting go of him. Blue eyes narrowed in devious intent before straightening again.

Uchiha's wet tongue grazed from the hilt to the tip, tasting the precum Naruto had already shed. Circling the swollen apex, he made his friend shiver. He received him in his mouth, pressing his hardness against the palate. A contained curse escaped the Uzumaki's mouth, and the Uchiha felt himself smile (as much as he could). He perceived the pleasure spasms Naruto couldn't suppress, and Sasuke sucked harder when his wife's hand stimulated the sensitive skin of his glans.

The renegade felt Naruto tightening his grip on his face, and he inhaled deeply to brace himself. The Hokage pulled him closer, half-roughness, half-tenderness, sinking deeper and deeper inside Sasuke's mouth. He growled loud as Sasuke engulfed him, closing his eyes at the intensity of the heat. He pulled away, allowing the Uchiha a breath. He pressed harder, and Sasuke's throat got completely obstructed.

The latent threat, that  _imposed deprival_  of oxygen made him frown, but under the panic that was impossible to suppress also resided the morbid pleasure of taking him, of allowing him to go deep inside his throat and  _endure._

His gag reflex almost broke through, managing to quench it at the last moment; the slight contraction of his tendons didn't go unnoticed to Naruto; he gasped at the constriction, jerking away quickly to avoid the harsh thrust his body demanded. A dribble of saliva linked them a few seconds, three pairs of eyes fixed on it, sparkling, beautiful in the dim light before disappearing.

The image affected Naruto the most, reflected in his brusque approach, in the uncouth way he gripped Sakura's wrist to attract her. The medic was sure his fingers would leave bruises on her skin, and her warning hiss was swallowed by the forced kiss of the Jinchūriki, his hot hand clutching Sakura's glutes equally as hard, marking them in his rapture. The woman responded by biting him, and this time, the copper taste of blood invaded their senses. Kunoichi's hands closed menacingly around his strong neck, thumbs pressed over the angle of his mandible.

Not caring to restrict much her strength, she pushed him, making him stumble until the back of his knees hit the bed. He fell on his back, reacting in time to buffer his drop with the elbows. Sapphires  _blazed,_  and the red chakra seething inside tainted them for a brief moment, turning into a fascinating purple. Emeralds returned the scrutiny as intently as he, her Byakugō no In throbbed, as if it tempted its release in her outburst.

The Uchiha neared his wife, not calculating his abruptness, his mind too occupied with his body to inform about his mistake. He pressed his body against the woman's, his instinct warning him too late when she tensed; Sakura knocked him over, the movement barely possible to follow as she landed on top of him.

But Sasuke was a ninja as equally as lethal.

His calloused hand was already closed around the medic's neck, just below her jaw, her forearm pushing hard over his Adan's apple, her merciless grip tight on his wrist as a defense reaction.

The fire of their eyes met. Emerald against ruby, against amethyst.

Not loosening the pressure, not conceding relief, they kissed. Both gasping, both  _insatiable._ They didn't find the will to contain, to  _measure themselves._

Sakura moved her forearm away from his neck, her hand reaching between their bodies, clutching her husband's cock. She didn't let go of his wrist, a silent command for him to keep his grip on her throat. Sakura descended on him, and Sasuke swore the subtle asphyxia his hand gave seized the sound, squeezing just a bit more not wanting for it to escape.

The Uchihas became one. The ruthlessness of the stimuli forcing them to remain still, to gather at least some seconds their strength, afraid that, if they decided to disobey, the feeling would whip them cruelly over and over… A promise they wouldn't be indisposed of tempting as long as they did it  _together._

The medic arched her back, Sasuke's hand still closed on her neck, beginning a measured swaying of her hips, not allowing the hardness invading her to pull away completely before consuming him again. The Uchiha felt his back contracting at the overwhelming pleasure, at the irresistible heat that swallowed him, that compressed him, sending unsparing shivers down his spine. He clenched his teeth and frowned, his nape flat against the hard wooden floor to stop the violence of his desire, to resist the urge to thrust with too much force.

An unnecessary precaution considering who his wife was. The woman he loved, with whom he was married, was everything  _but fragile._

He decided then that, if they were already so eager to adorn their skins with beautiful marks, to intoxicate themselves with iron-stained saliva, his mindfulness was uncalled for. And when Naruto's frame neared them, Sasuke no longer had any  _interest_ in containing the reflexes of his graceful body.

The renegade synched his thrusts to the oscillations immediately, as easy as breathing, adjusting to her the same way she adjusted to him. The Jinchūriki placed himself between Sasuke's legs, kneeling behind Sakura, his cock finding haven between the seductive parting of her tense glutes, his arms circling her to stimulate her swollen nipples. Her shoulder blades grazing his chest, the ascend and descend motion of her body grinding on his cock had him intoxicated in a matter of seconds, his tongue tasting the salt sliding down the kunoichi's neck.

Growls, gasps, moans soon filled the room, accompanying the rhythmic knocks of every hard descent, of every broken sound when the pleasure proved too much to bear.

"Sakura," the men's raucous voices pronounced between pants.

"Sasuke," she said, vibrating against the fingertips holding her throat. "Naruto," the name escaped when she arched back, finding the Uzumaki's lips over her shoulder.

The Uchiha felt the spasms of her core on his hardness, he frowned to concentrate, to contract every fiber of his body before doing it too late. Heat increased between them, blazing as her orgasm took place. He felt the broken sounds of pleasure she vocalized against his fingers, the warm evidence of her ecstasy against his abs and his hardness. He used every drop of his so well-trained self-control to force the seething reaction of his own orgasm down, clenching his muscles to stop it.

She  _never_  made it easy for him, but the prospect of her reprimand if only he dared to finish so soon was enough to hang onto that fragment of lucidity. The throbbing retention of his orgasm was a price he was willing to pay if it kept her from doing it in his place, because the times his intemperance made him lose himself and cum too soon, his wife took charge during long nights of  _denying_  his orgasm to the point of being  _insufferable._ And despite the masochistic vein beating inside Sasuke found those occasions incomprehensibly pleasuring, he preferred much more to control it  _himself_.

Sakura's momentary languor was an uncommon sight for the Uzumaki, one he only got to appreciate in these nights together; his friend irradiated a strong, permanent beat, fed by the enormous quantity of chakra stored in her seal. Her body always seemed ready to react (something he managed to do quite easily, earning him bruises almost every time), prompting a subtle, continuous tension of her muscles. So, he enjoyed immensely to see her apparently with no strength left, completely subdued to the pleasure as the waves of her orgasm faded.

Bit by bit, Sakura collected the pieces of her saturated brain, ragged breaths helping her oxygenate her blood. Laughter rose hoarse in her throat, the vibration hinting a trace of pain from the hard grip asphyxiating her seconds ago. Her two teammates smiled at the sound, satisfied,  _fascinated_  with everything unfolding in front of their eyes.

Emerald, ruby and amethyst met, expressing the profound, ferocious love they felt. During long seconds that resembled entire minutes, the colours seemed to soften in a nostalgic flicker, a tenderness long lost with the years, one that existed before hurting each other so much.

The medic moved away from Sasuke, who gave a low groan and a frown as protest. Before rising to her feet she granted him a soft kiss, the clinical precision of her tongue distracting his mind from the absence of her closeness. She stood up, turning then to her best friend, giving him a seductive gaze before taking his hand to lead him to the bed. The Nanadaime breathed hard, deciding he would tempt the woman's tolerance.

He stopped her, the soft squeeze of his hand indicating he had another idea. The kunoichi turned her body halfway, emerald scintillating with curiousness. In a swift movement, Naruto closed his fingers at her glutes and hamstrings attachment, lifting her easily. There was a dangerous spark in the medic's eyes, but she didn't offer a physical reaction. He kept her there, allowing Sakura to stare at him from above, waiting for her answer. The ravenous kiss served as confirmation, the smell of her arousal made the Hokage growl in anticipation.

Taking two steps, he pressed her back against the cold wall, the shiver shaking her body made him tremble as well. Slowly, steadily, he lowered her with the strength of his arms, his muscled legs supporting her weight. Centimeter by centimeter he entered her, drowning a moan on the kunoichi's tense neck; Sakura exposed the frail skin to him, a harsh, unsteady exhalation escaping her. Naruto's throbbing erection sank into her, stretched her, making her clutch his broad shoulders tight. His body heat proved suffocating, harrying even, but the way it surrounded her was very, very different from being in her husband's arms. Naruto offered a rawer, unfiltered form of love, one she happily reciprocated in the same fierce way.

The occasional variety had her already longing for their next reunion. These times between every gathering were precisely what made them enjoy so much, because they wouldn't withstand the enormous attrition of their devotion if it happened too often.

Her core molded to the irruption, her strong legs wrapped around the Nanadaime to hold herself. The sweat of her back made her slide on the wall, his saliva intoxicating her when their tongues met, striving to steal each other's breath. His thrusts firm, fast, resembling more and more like collisions as minutes passed. This is how he was; passionate, unstoppable, no moderation as his hardness invaded her.

Still, Sakura  _liked it,_ because with Naruto she could border the rampage her body required from time to time, because despite her iron control there were occasions she was not willing to  _keep it,_ a frenzy the Uchiha could never give her no matter how hard he tried, it was something simply non-existing in his nature. The expression of Sasuke's lack of self-control had only happened in the presence of hate, its absence was truly a good signal.

That's why the three had each other, to  _fill_  gaps, to  _surmount_ others, to  _compensate each other._

Sasuke walked to Naruto's back, his body flush against his ripped figure, the sole hand placed over the Uzumaki's. When a corner of his saturated mind realized of his touch, Naruto let their fingers intertwine, both now holding their teammate. The Uchiha placed his shaft between the tense buttocks, nibbling Naruto on the left trapezius. But his mismatched eyes were locked on the medic, absorbing the details of her sinewy body as she tensed, as she engaged her abs to brace herself from Naruto's relentless thrusts, a ramming that now stimulated him as well.

She seemed to feel his scrutinize as she forced her eyelids to open, emerald offering the Uchiha all the overflow of her pleasure, of her love for both, of the intense feelings burning inside her, ones she had taught him to feel along with Naruto. His mind too hazy to notice, Sasuke's hips jerked forward, the edge of his teeth marking the taut flesh of Naruto's back. The Uchiha frowned, sweat sliding down his temples, his nose, finding himself incapable of looking away from the green eyes.

Sakura set her jaw, muscles tensing as the waves of her orgasm reached her limbs. Her nails dug on Naruto's deltoids, leaving half-moons on the skin, provoking her friend to speed up, impaling her almost with cruelty. The kunoichi's legs trembled and a ruptured sound vibrated in her trachea, biting hard her lips to prevent it from escaping.

The Uchiha watched every detail previous to her orgasm, his abs tightened as he shoved Naruto using his own strength, compelling the blond to give a deeper thrust, one that made the woman cry out, pushing her over the edge.

Both felt it in their tenketsu before seeing it; the seal beat unsparing, releasing the black snakes that crawled on her white skin, elegantly sliding as every spasm of her body curled her muscles. An unmatched sight for them, threatening like it was beautiful, as if the dark colour of the marks symbolized an impure invitation to  _trace them,_ to  _test_  the power they brought along.

If she didn't have the necessary endurance, the explosion of bodily sensations would've made her pass out. Inhaling deeply, she tried to regulate her pounding heart, to diminish the violent shivers still escalating her overwhelmed spine. She leaned her head, her forehead against the Uzumaki's, yet gasping, a twisted smile on her lips. She looked up again, the cyan irides engulfing her, expressing the same warm feeling she felt inside her chest. They beamed at each other, Naruto offering his characteristic wide grin to her, she giggled a little too out of breath in response.

Then she met the Uchiha's intense gaze, she brought her hand to his face to caress his cheek, traveling up to move his sweaty hair away from his forehead; her fingers dug between the wet strands, breaking through his scalp.

Moving them to the bed, the Uzumaki placed the pinkette carefully on the mattress. He gave her a brief smile before straightening and pulling Sasuke closer to kiss him. The kunoichi observed avidly, but she knew this short pause was to catch her breath, so she stretched to reach the nightstand, opening the drawer to take a small bottle.

Sasuke ran his hand over the left side of Naruto, intertwining his tongue with his as his fingers traveled over the Jinchūriki's anatomy, dips and creases well memorized in his mind, in his fingertips. Naruto's left hand grasped the black hair of his nape, his oblique with the right, pulling until there was no space between their bodies, the kiss becoming more urgent.

They parted after long seconds, heartbeat hammering their arteries when they stared at each other's eyes, an intimate, close gesture. Sapphire, ruby and amethyst blazed with the same  _intensity,_ the same  _hunger._

Turning then to their teammate, they saw the ravenous gleam emanating from the emerald.

Sakura offered Sasuke a hand, when he took it she pulled him towards her, making him place a knee on the mattress to stabilize. Her gaze leaving his irides for some seconds, she looked at the Hokage, offering him the small bottle. Then she returned her attention to her husband, her hands closing around his neck, just below his ears, thumbs over the angles of his jaw. She made him move until his back was flat on the bed, her avid kiss not stopping while she did so. Sasuke's breathing increased in anticipation, his Sharingan capturing forever the way he disappeared inside of her when she lowered her body on him.

The medic leaned, pressing her chest against his to kiss him again, her arms encircling him to hold him close; he reciprocated by closing his right arm around her waist, his fingers gripping tightly her left oblique. The oscillation of her hips sent jolts of pleasure in his erection, and he could feel her core clenching harder when they felt Naruto approaching.

Kissing his teammate's back, the Jinchūriki poured some of the bottle's content on his fingers. His hand reached her intimate area, perceiving the medic's shiver on his lips; half-pleasure, half-expectation. Drawing soft circles he stimulated her, his tongue savouring the particular taste of her sweat, the combined aroma of them three filling his lungs, one that had his heart pounding, that made him set his jaw.

Naruto loved it,  _ **loved them**_ _,_  beyond words.

He readied her in devoted attention, not ceasing to spread kisses on the scars of her back, following the Byakugō marks with his lips. He growled low, her heat received his fingers, a warmness that would soon enclose the area that claimed more attention between his legs.

Sasuke noticed Sakura's impatience against his lips, in the way her tongue seemed almost  _furious_ when attacking his, her chest heaving harshly. But what was driving him mad was the increasingly intense palpitation of her body, the one that emanated from the release of her Yin seal. It reverberated in his tenketsu, in his flesh and bones, in the piece of him that was buried deep inside of her, and that made  _too_ difficult to concentrate on returning her kiss, on  _repressing_  the strength of his grip on her skin.

Both Uchihas perceived the weight shift, and they remained very, very still. The medic pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. Sasuke felt something  _indescribable_  when he saw the way his wife's harmonious face  _contorted_ in pleasure. He noticed her core tightening further around him, striving to accommodate them both; this tore a raucous sound of satisfaction from him. Sasuke placed his forehead against Sakura's, feeling the strong palpitation on his sweaty skin.

Naruto lost himself entirely inside her body, gritting his teeth to control himself. His right hand grasped her waist; she flexed her arm to place her own hand over his, intertwining their fingers. Naruto used his left fingertips to trace the dark lines decorating her back. Breath catching, he noticed the thrill low in his abdomen that indicated how close he was to release.

Slowly, they began moving, wariness leading them. Caution had little to do with hurting her; the three were far from inexperienced, and unnerving the kunoichi required much more than that. Both men had learnt from their encounters, following the medic's precise indications, until they discovered the ways to achieve the perfect balance between the three.

They did it laggardly because by now, the three were too overwhelmed to endure further, a point where their bodies managed to overcome their will to lengthen the encounter.

As seconds passed their cadence increased, and the pressure of the irruption was just a bit too harsh, just a bit too insufferable. A tautness that balanced in the exact limit between  _insufficient_ and  _excessive._ Her hips adapted to their rhythm, the two members eliciting electric sensations very different from one another, ones that collided when meeting in her spine, making her tremble in an almost pleading way.

Naruto growled, an audible warning of how on edge he was, and Sasuke's grip was becoming more and more bruising, indicating Sakura that he was close as well. It's not that she had greater composure, from the three, she was probably the one that  _least_  should lucidity be delegated to. But that was their dynamic, so she focused in the way the two men pulsated inside her, in the way the Byakugō's release electrified all her nerves, amplifying the sensitiveness to an almost unsparing degree.

She made sure to drive them three to the abyss, muffling her moans on Sasuke's lips, on Naruto's when he leaned to press his chest against her back, until they could take no more.

Like that, Naruto and Sakura holding hands, the Uchihas sharing the embrace, the gasps of the three mixing in closeness, they let themselves go by the ruthless  _violence_  of their orgasms.

Shivering in unison, the broken sounds of pleasure blended the same way their sweat, their panting, their evidence of ecstasy did.

All lost their strength, collapsing as the waves of pleasure and contractions diminished, as the last spasms quivered their spines.

There, in the gloom, exhausted, fragile,  _whole,_  they let a smile bloom on their lips.

Because bliss was an excellent reason to do so, because the three hearts now beat as  _one._

The reward their  _union_  was had made every drop of blood, every tear, every fracture of the soul worth it.

Sapphire, emerald, ruby and amethyst met, and there was nothing more.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't intended to be this long, but I couldn't help it.
> 
> Mind to leave a review? I'd truly appreciate it.


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